


Bloody Valentine

by Johnlockedness



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Job, Case Fic, First Kiss, Frottage, Hand Job, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlockedness/pseuds/Johnlockedness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has made hand engraved candy hearts for John for Valentine's day. Has he found the way to John's heart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Valentine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kayjaykayme](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kayjaykayme).



> This is my [johnlockchallenges](johnlockchallenges.tumblr.com) Valentine's gift exchange for [kayjaykayme](kayjaykayme.tumblr.com)
> 
> The prompt was “Sherlock leaving hand-written candy heart messages for John. First kiss that leads to more.”
> 
> Enjoy c:

February 14th. Known to the common wealth as a day of love and passion. Known to Sherlock as a day with statistically more domestic murders. He had the entire day mapped out in his head. It was going to be Christmas. Surely most of tomorrow’s crimes would be dull, boring and predictable, but one could never be sure of what might lurk around a corner. 

Sherlock would be on standby the entire day. 

“Dinner.” Sherlock announced from his meditative position in his chair.

Next to him John paused from his typing, he had been working on his blog for the last twenty minutes in a comfortable silence. John frowned, once, twice then turned and looked at Sherlock. “Now?”

When Sherlock didn’t respond he sighed. “It’s 11 o’clock you nutter.” He muttered but then softened. “There’s some left over tikka masala in the fridge in case you need to refuel.”

Sherlock made a humming noise which could be either agreement or dismissal. John chose to ignore it and turned back to his blog, but Sherlock interrupted him. 

“Mmmh, what, no.” he barked. “Tomorrow John.” 

John straightened and pouted his lips. “You want to have dinner with me.” He said clearing his throat.

“Dinner, yes.” Sherlock said flatly and unperturbed, staring straight ahead, fingers steepled.

“Tomorrow?” John asked.

Sherlock eyes snapped sideways to meet John’s. “Yes, tomorrow, dinner. Angelo’s.” He got up, snatching his coat from the door hanger. “At 6:30 precise. Don’t be late.”

“Are you quite sure? You know what day it is tomorrow right?” John said, wondering if he should ask where Sherlock was going instead. 

Sherlock looked at him incredulously. “Why shouldn’t I be?” he asked. John’s only answer was a shrug and Sherlock rolled his eyes as he made to leave.

“Yeah, were exactly are you going?” John called after him.

“Out. I am starving. Don’t wait up.” Sherlock’s voice came from below before the front door slammed shut.

John stood and watched Sherlock from their window as he disappeared around the corner of Regent’s Park. “But we have left over curry.” He mumbled before he walked to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. 

~~*~~

Sherlock breathed in the cold February air. The night belonged to Sherlock and Sherlock Holmes belonged to the night. After wandering for hours on end through dark alleys and quiet streets, Sherlock found himself looking over the boating lake in Regent’s Park, trying to clear his mind. He needed to be in impeccable shape by the break of dawn. 

Oh, it was embarrassing how much he was looking forward to tomorrow. The countless possibilities of crime passionnel. He felt giddy, like a child on Christmas morning. Afraid to be disappointed yet eager to find out what he had been given. If only it wouldn’t be dull. An interesting case. That is what he needed. 

Ah and then there was the little matter with John. 

February 14th. Valentine’s day. Over-commercialised, pathetic, boring. 

Sherlock let out an unamused breath. But that’s what people did, didn’t they? Buy and give each other horrendous cards, expensive looking jewellery and cheap tasting chocolates. 

And John, as we all know, is a romantic. Damn him. 

So Sherlock had been through great lengths to actually hint some of the feelings he held for John. 

About a week ago John had mentioned (well complained is more the word if Sherlock had any say in it, which in fact he had), that he would be pretty much alone on Valentine’s day this year. Why this was a problem to John, Sherlock couldn’t fathom. But Sherlock was rather pleased by that little fact. It was dreadful to witness John taking home dull women every now and then. 

Anyway John had complained jokily about Valentine’s day and so the subject eventually changed to possible gifts one could give another. For instance, candy hearts. Sherlock did not understand why people liked the dreadful mawkish _I love you_ or _be mine_ or even worse _dear heart_ messages on the sugary heart shaped goods. John had laughed – no giggled – for a long time at that. 

“That is such a Sherlock thing to say.” He explained once his bubble of laughter had subsided. “It’s the gift purpose Sherlock. It doesn’t matter what is written on them.” He smiled. “In your case there would be words like _murder, blood, case_ and _crime_ written on them.” He collapsed into another fit of laughter lifting himself from his chair and walked upstairs, wiping the tears from his eyes and leaving an amused but slightly confused Sherlock Holmes behind. 

So. In order to make John laugh, because a laughing John is a happy John and therefore easy accessible, Sherlock had actually made hand written candy hearts. Which were decorated with the words John had suggested. _Murder, blood, case_ and _crime._

Not very romantic, granted, but it would do. Sherlock had no clue as how to broach the subject regarding his feelings for John any other way. With some luck John would figure it out for himself. 

Sherlock snorted as he glanced over the inky black water of the lake. It was John we were speaking of after all. Subtle was not a tactic by which to approach John. 

~~*~~

Sherlock was on fire. He had been right – of course he had been – he solved one crime after another. John followed close to his heels, marvelling at Sherlock’s frenzied state. Lestrade had contacted them three times today and they solved a few private cases. Sherlock even broke into a house and announced to the couple that was making out, that the husband had been cheating on his wfe for the last couple of months. 

Suffice it to say, they had darted away from the scene and ran as if their lives depended on it as the man had chased them through several streets with a cricket bat. 

Out of breath, standing in an alley John began to rant at him. “Out of your mind” gasp for air “what good did that do” gloved hand against the stone wall “good thing it’s not snowing you cock”.

John had a point there. The weather was incredibly mild for this time of year. No ice, no snow. They would never have gotten away this fast if it was in fact freezing. Which it wasn’t, so Sherlock dismissed the possibility soon after John had mentioned it. 

Sherlock just smiled. “Got your breath back.”

John glanced up at him. “Ready when you are.”

“Angelo’s.” Sherlock announced. 

~~*~~

Dinner was – well awkward was one word for it. It was nice, but definitely awkward. Romance was in the air and Angelo was rather surprised to see them here. Tonight. Together. 

As they sat at the table, candle of course in place, John let his gaze slide to the frankly many couples that were dining here tonight. It was quite possible that they were the only non-couple in the restaurant. It was a bit – uncomfortable.

When even Sherlock ordered a starter and a main course John couldn’t help but smile at the situation. 

“You are actually going to eat?” He said fondly. “The night is young, you never know who might need a consulting detective tonight.”

Sherlock looked at him as if he had gone mad. “Even though digestion may slow me down I find it necessary to accommodate my body with at least some nutritional substances which – “

“Okay hold up.” John interrupted. “I get it. You are hungry.”

Sherlock nodded and was silent. Which was odd. John couldn’t fathom why but it was a bit out of Sherlock’s usual character. 

When the food arrived they ate in silence. And at the sight of Sherlock actually eating, John’s heart thumped happily.

~~*~~ 

They decided to take a cab back to Baker Street as they were both full and rather sleepy after the day’s activities. 

Sherlock’s coat pocket, however, felt as if it contained a sugar brick. 

He had no clue how to present his small gift to John. And as they walked into their living room he decided best to get it over with.

With his coat still wrapped around him, Sherlock cleared his throat to get John’s attention. As expected John turned around and cocked an eyebrow up at him. “Mmh?” John inquired. 

“John. I rather have not you laugh at me, but since you compl – said you would be alone on Valentine’s day, which is by the way like any other day, so I don’t understand why people are upset by it, but then they are people I suppose, and therefore idiots. Anyway, I took quite some effort in making these especially for you in order to make you feel better on this particular day. So I hope they suffice to your expectations.” Sherlock finished with a rush of breath and he cringed, he actually cringed as he fished an evidence bag filled with pink and white candy hearts.

John took the bag from Sherlock’s gloved hand and inspected the contents. “This is actually rather sweet.” He opened it and looked at the apparently hand engraved message. _Murder_ it read. John laughed. “Well, for as far as sweet goes. I can’t believe you actually made them.” He caught Sherlock’s eyes, a broad smile on John’s face. “Thank you.” He said sincerely and popped the candy heart into his mouth. At the back of his mind John wondered if he should ask whether the evidence bag had been previously used, but decided not to. 

Sherlock nodded and suddenly looked rather unsure. But John was one step ahead of him. “Would you like one too? I couldn’t help but notice you skipped dessert.” 

“Yes.” Sherlock’s voice was hoarse and then John did the unexpected. 

Instead of handing him the bag, John manoeuvred the candy heart between his lips and reached up. He kissed Sherlock, gently coaxing Sherlock’s lips open and pushed the candy into Sherlock’s mouth with his tongue. After a few more inquisitive nibs, he leaned back. 

Sherlock looked like a statue. Eyes closed, a blush on his cheeks, lips lightly parted. Stunning, John decided. 

“Don’t you even think I don’t know what you’ve been playing at.” John said as he removed Sherlock’s coat from his shoulders. “Out together fighting crime the entire day, dinner at Angelo’s, Valentine’s gift.” He said as he placed Sherlock’s coat on the hanger of the door. 

When he stood in front of Sherlock again, Sherlock had his eyes open. John took hold of his scarf and pulled him forward gently. “You are a soppy romantic Sherlock Holmes.” John murmured against the detectives lips and this time it was Sherlock that pushed his lips fully against John’s. 

They kissed for a long time. Gently nibbling at each other’s lips at first, before John pressed more urgent against Sherlock’s mouth. John’s urgency made Sherlock moan and John slipped his tongue between Sherlock parted lips. Their tongues met for the first time and attentively licked at one another, a little unsure at the same time. Soon however, the kiss grew more bold and tongues stroked languidly against lips, teeth, and cheek. 

Sherlock broke the kiss at some point, out of breath and pressing his forehead against John’s. 

“We are a bit new at this, aren’t we?” John teased gently his voice husky.

Sherlock looked a bit startled at that, but a look at John’s eyes told him John was merely teasing him. “Are we complaining, Doctor?”

“Not one bit.” John said as he rushed forward and kissed Sherlock hard and desperately. Hands were yanking at his scarf, revealing Sherlock’s long pale neck. John’s hands caressed the exposed neck and let one hand slide upwards into Sherlock’s soft thick hair, cupping the back of his head and pressing him closer. Sherlock’s hands clawed at John’s back, trying to get rid of the striped jumper John was wearing. He needed to feel John’s solid warmth. 

“Bedroom.” John purred against Sherlock’s kiss swollen lips and he let himself be guided by John towards his bedroom. 

Truth to be told, it took them quite a while to make the journey from the living room to Sherlock’s bedroom, tangled together as they were. Pausing every now and then to push each other up against the wall of the hall that leaded to Sherlock’s room. 

Sherlock experimentally pushed his hips into John’s at some point and nearly lost all control right then and there. John steadied him with a groan followed by a chuckle. He stilled Sherlock’s actions and undid the buttons of Sherlock’s shirt, his jacket already lost somewhere along the way. John looked absolutely dishevelled, his hair ruffled, this jumper gone, his shirt half undone and a wild predatory look in his eyes. Sherlock moaned as John slip a hand into his open shirt and stroked the revealed skin of his chest, side and belly. He rubbed at Sherlock’s nipple and Sherlock desperately bucked his hips forward, pressing his hardness into John’s belly. 

John hands retreated and firmly stilled Sherlock’s hips. 

Then he sunk to his knees. 

Sherlock sighed as John unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. He pressed his face against Sherlock’s pants. His cheek tracing against Sherlock’s clothed cock and he inhaled deeply. He smelled a hint of soap, a musky tang which was highly erotic and another scent that could only be described as Sherlock. 

Above him Sherlock panicked, staring helplessly at John and threading his finger through John’s short hair. He was utterly at John’s mercy and Sherlock knew it. He wanted this. Oh god how much he wanted it. John locked eyes with him and Sherlock nodded. He would stop John if it became too much for him and he knew John would stop if Sherlock wanted him to. John was prepared to do anything for him at this moment. An unspoken bond of trust between them.  
John waited until Sherlock gave in and closed his eyes before freeing Sherlock’s erection from its silk confinement. Silk pants. John clicked his tongue. The vain prat. 

He gave Sherlock’s cock a few strokes as he observed Sherlock’s reaction. Sherlock’s head was bowed forward, his fringe in his eyes which were shut tight, his mouth open and he was breathing roughly through the O-shape his lips formed. He look utterly gorgeous. 

Sherlock bucked his hips forward slightly and John smiled to himself, impatient bugger, and gently mouthed at the base of Sherlock’s erection. Sherlock’s body shuddered as he exhaled noisily. John took it as a sign to continue and traced the vein at the underside of Sherlock’s cock with the tip of his tongue. He flattened his tongue as he took the tip in his mouth, massaging the knot of flesh just below the crown with lips and tongue. 

Sherlock’s hips shook uncontrollably and John had to push back hard with both hands to keep him still and pinned against the wall. He pushed Sherlock’s cock up with his tongue so that with every stroke his glans would brush against his palate. Trusting Sherlock wouldn’t buck into him as fiercely as before, he worked the base of Sherlock’s penis with an experienced fist, while his mouth worked on the tip. He sucked the foreskin back over Sherlock’s glans before working it back down with his lips. 

When Sherlock’s began to moan continuously John let him slip from his mouth and rose to meet Sherlock’s mouth again. Sherlock groaned as he tasted himself in John’s mouth, the thought entirely wicked. 

“Bed.” John beckoned once more. 

This time they made it to the bedroom without being interrupted by their libido. They moved to the bed while their hands frantically tried to get rid of clothing. “I need to feel you against me.” John whispered into the crook of Sherlock’s neck as Sherlock pulled at his shirt and then his belt. Deft and long fingers unbuckling it. 

Once they were finally shed of clothing John settled on Sherlock’s bed and held out his hand to a rather unsure looking Sherlock. 

“John.” He began. When it was apparent that no other coherent words followed, John sat up a bit straighter.

“Come here.” John said calmly and Sherlock took a step forward. Their hands met and fingers entwined almost instantly. John pulled him forward and they both sighed as their bare bodies made contact. They kissed, shifting around on the bed to find a comfortable position. 

John ended on top of Sherlock and their hips moved against one another out of their own record. Although satisfied with the rhythm they were currently enjoying, John lifted himself up and straddled Sherlock hips. Their erections aligned and John marvelled at how similar they looked and yet how very different they were. 

Sherlock’s erection was quite long and pale, which a plump rosy head. Dark fur at the base and drawn up balls. Sherlock was close and he studied John as John looked down at their paired erections.

So unlike himself he thought. John’s penis was thick, sturdy, a much darker shade than Sherlock’s with blond fur at the base. He thrust his hips, noting how Sherlock’s eyes rolled as he pressed his head back in the pillows. “John.” He moaned, voice unsteady. “I – oh God.” The mattress moved along with their rhythm, making it easy to repeat the action over and over again. 

John gripped both their erections so they were rubbing together in John’s tight fist. He rolled his hips. His mind blown by the feeling of soft frenulum rubbing against frenulum and glans nudging against the firm ring of John’s fist. 

Below him Sherlock chanted, making breathy noises interjected by obscene moans, groans and words. John took it as a queue to pump his hips rapidly, the need for release building up in his spine until it spiralled down. He felt it coiling in his balls but he slowed down as Sherlock’s began to meet his trusts frantically. “Close. So, so close, I – John!” His cock pulsed over John’s hand and cock. 

John released Sherlock’s sensitive and softening penis from his grip and worked a fist on himself instead, using Sherlock ejaculation as lubricant. It felt naughty. And good, very good indeed.

Leaning down, John braced himself with one hand and kissed Sherlock through fully as he pumped his cock. Sherlock’s hands caressed his back and coaxed him to orgasm and within moments John did. Burying his face against Sherlock’s shoulder. He cried out as he came, come spurting out in waves between their bellies. 

John couldn’t help but to slide his penis through the mess between them before he released himself and collapsed on top of Sherlock, utterly spent. 

Sherlock smiled into the crook of his neck and rolled them both over so that he could get hold of the bed covers. 

“Sherlock” John started but Sherlock kissed him silently and shushed him. 

“Sleep.” Sherlock whispered against his ear as John yawned and obeyed. 

Sherlock watched him. Watched how his breathing evened and muscles spasm in relaxation every now and then. “I love you.” Sherlock murmured into John’s hair as he stroked John’s cheek with two fingers, watching John’s mouth twitch in response. 

Eventually Sherlock’s eyelids began to droop. Admitting defeat he settled himself behind John, spooning him, and kissed his neck softly. John unconsciously pushed back against Sherlock’s warmth. It didn’t take long before Sherlock drifted off, his arms wrapped around his Valentine.


End file.
